The Mixtape
by CSIMel
Summary: She thought it would be a chance to break the ice. It wasn't.


**THE MIX TAPE**

**Disclaimage: I don't own anything.**

**Spoilers: Up to and including BlackJack.**

**Challenge: Written in response to a challenge over on the jericho fanfiction boards:**** Black Jack is supposed to be a couple of hours from Jericho. Heather, Jake, Johnston, and Dale were in that car together for quite awhile. What did they talk about? What were they doing? (Call this the "road Trip" challenge, a variation on a group of characters stuck in an elevator challenge.)**

**Summary: She thought it would be fun, a chance to break the ice. It wasn't**

* * *

"What's that?" 

Heather paused as she leant over the front seats, her hand pausing mid air as she reached towards the tape player.

"A mix tape." She pushed it into the tape deck.

"You made a mix tape?" Johnston asked incredulously, making the young teacher blush.

"Well, no, Mr Green," Heather corrected, "I found it lying around at home and thought it would be fun."

Jake smirked.

"What?" Heather asked innocently, "It's a two hour drive to the fairgrounds and I can't endure it in silence."

The three men continued to stare at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you guys going to have a conversation," Heather grinned sarcastically, "perhaps some road games?"

Jake shook his head and started up the engine.

"Thought as much," Heather muttered.

"Let's just get this over and done with," Johnston shook his head, "I just –"

_I'm heading down, the Atlantic highway…_

The former Mayor, however, was interrupted by the opening verse of _Love shack_.

Jake groaned.

"Are you serious?"

Heather grinned sheepishly.

"I must have grabbed my road trip mix, sorry guys."

"What is this, Miss Lisinski?" Dale spoke up, looking confused.

"Oh, it's the _Love shack_, a popular 80's song by the B52's…"

"I don't care what it is, just turn it off!"

Shocked, Heather reached over the front, stopped the tape and fast forwarded it for a minute.

"It's worse than that garbage you used to listen to, Jake," Johnston grumbled, rubbing his temples.

"Yeah?" Heather piped up, interested, "so what sort of garbage did an adolescent Jake Green listen to?"

"The classics, mainly," Jake shrugged, "The Who, Sex Pistols, Led Zeppelin, ACDC, all that sort of thing."

"Cool," Heather nodded, pleased with the conversation, "What about you, Dale?"

"Uh," Dale thought for a minute, "Well, MCR are cool."

"MC what-what?" Johnston asked.

"MCR," Dale repeated, "My Chemical Romance."

"What do they sing about?" Heather questioned.

"Um, I guess pain and death mostly."

"How fitting," Johnston remarked dryly, "Pity you don't have 'nuclear apocalypse' tape mix, I'm sure they'd fit right in."

"I was just trying to cheer everyone up," Heather said softly.

Jake glanced at her in the rear view mirror. She looked devastated.

He flipped the music back on.

A huge grin spread across her face as Journey's _Don't Stop Believing_ started playing.

Jake glanced at his father, who was rubbing his temple and then at Dale, who was pulling his beanie over his ears.

It was going to be a long drive.

* * *

…_Looong, Su-mmer niiiiiiiiiiights!_

Jake cringed as Heather sang the end of a Grease melody loudly and badly.

Johnston reached over and shut off the music.

"I think we should have some quiet time now."

Dale muttered 'Thank God' under his breath, while Heather mumbled something about 'not being a third grader'.

After a few minutes of choking silence, Johnston had had enough.

"What about a game?"

"Sure!" Heather enthused.

There was a pause.

"Does anyone know any car games?" Jake asked.

There was another pause.

"I've got one," Dale spoke up, "how about I Spy?"

"Why not," Johnston shrugged, "Jake, you go first."

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'R'."

"Road?"

"Yeah, you're turn, Dale."

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'S'."

"Sky?"

"Signs?"

"Salt?"

"Yep, go, Miss Lisinski."

"Uh, I spy with my little eye something beginning with… 'G'."

"Grass?"

"Ground?"

"Gas?"

"Where?"

"Everywhere, it's all around us."

"Don't be a smartass, Dale."

"Guns?"

"Correct. Your turn Jake."

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with 'R'."

"For God's sakes, Jake, if you say 'road' again…"

"You got it, Dad."

"I'm not going to play if you don't play properly!"

"Geez, Dad, lighten up-"

Johnston switched on the music, much to Heather's delight.

"Game over."

* * *

Jake switched off the music just before they reached the Black Jack fairgrounds.

"Guns." The man at the gate ordered.

Jake and Johnston handed them over and the man handed them a ticket.

Just before driving in, Johnston handed the guards another object.

"What the hell is this?"

"A mix tape."

"What the hell am I supposed to do with it?"

"Anything, burn it, step on it, use it to level your table…"

Johnston trailed off, noticing the look of annoyance increasing on the guards face.

"Destroy it, please. Or so help me God; I might just kill someone today."

The man dropped it on the ground and brought his foot down on top of it.

"Hey!" Heather exclaimed as Jake drove through the gates, "My mix tape!"

"What a darn shame," Johnston sympathised, a smirk playing on his face.

"Why would they do that?"

"Didn't you see the fine print under 'no guns'? It said 'no mix tapes'."

"Don't be a smartass, Dale!"

* * *

**Review if you love 80's music. Or just review. Either one would be appreciated. XD**


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